The Stone Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 3)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  When did that change?

  Earlier this morning, Ulmin had arrived at the chapel, only to be told the Rimorite visitor was feeling ill and had left early. He took the opportunity to draw power from the stone—his highest form of worship. Afterward, he sensed some nervousness in Emissary Loryn. So he captured her mind and asked her questions.

  She came clean about the traitorous pilgrim who’d likely spied on Ulmin as he touched the stone. By lying to the king and distracting him, Emissary Loryn had helped the rebel escape. Why had she turned against the king she’d served so well?

  His heart compressing with the agony of betrayal, Ulmin opened the Rimstar-adorned door and continued into the main chapel. Emissary Loryn was sitting in the front row, seemingly waiting for him.

  He lowered himself to the chair next to hers, fixing his eyes not on her, but on the stone. “What changed?” He kept his voice low and allowed her mind to remain her own. “Why did you turn against me? Please tell me the truth.”

  Her voice was quiet. Hollow. “You’ve always known you could trust me. I’d been loyal for years. Yet you embraced the magic of brain lysting. Then you started controlling me. You’ve changed from the man you used to be.”

  He swiveled his head slowly, bringing his gaze to hers. “Just weeks ago, you told me you were still loyal to me. I know it was true, because I . . .” Because I had possession of your mind when you said it.

  “I was loyal, because at the time, I didn’t see any other option. I hoped you’d finally see the error of your ways. I was loyal until someone came in here and told me people are working to bring you down. It gave me hope.”

  Ulmin felt tears enter his eyes. He let them spill onto his wrinkled cheeks. “You were the one person I trusted.”

  “If you only trust one person, how many do you think truly trust you?”

  He blinked. She wasn’t usually that frank unless he forced her to be.

  “Stop,” she whispered. “Stop eating brain matter. Stop touching the stone. It’s not too late.”

  He laughed softly. In the past, his conscience had gotten the better of him, and he’d tried repeatedly to wean himself from his dark fuel. Months ago, he’d sworn off all such fruitless attempts. These days, he could only go a few hours before his desire had him sweating and panting like a madman. The smooth, indigo substance found in animal skulls was the only thing that calmed him. And as for the stone . . . it had made him who he was. It was the greatest gift he’d ever received. Why in the world would he turn away from that?

  There was no use explaining all that to the emissary. She’d chosen which side she was on. He respected her enough to believe her decision was final. Leaning closer, he asked, “Do you want to be aware?”

  “Of what?”

  He grasped her wrist hard enough to make her wince. “Do you want to be aware? When I kill you?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. A single sob convulsed her chest. But it only took a few seconds for her to rein in her emotions. She brought her newly hardened gaze to his face. “Yes, I want to be aware.”

  Along with the brain matter he’d eaten before leaving his residence, Ulmin had also drunk some water with pulverized stone mixed in. He gave the woman next to him a single nod, then lifted his hand.

  A stone spike exited his palm, entering the soft flesh where her chin met her neck, traveling far enough to reach her brain.

  Emissary Loryn’s eyes went blank. Her taut muscles relaxed. Ulmin caught her and lowered her gently to the floor, shaking his head. “This was so unnecessary,” he whispered as he closed her eyes.

  17

  After dinner, Ulmin and I sat on a bench next to the palace pond, chatting and laughing. After a lull in the conversation, he said, “I’m glad we’re friends, Ambrel.”

  The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Is that what we are? Did you bring me out here to tell me we’re just friends?”

  “I don’t think you understand. I don’t have friends. I have parents and tutors and people who pretend to be friends so they can get something from me. I’ve always wanted a true friend. And I’ve wanted a wife too. I hardly dared to hope they’d be the same person.”

  His hand found mine, and I kept my eyes on the pond, grinning like a fool.

  -Letter from Ambrel Kaulder to Dani Kaulder

  Dated Barna 2, 180 PD

  The sky shifted from black to dark gray as they flew to the farm. Krey landed in a fallow field, followed by Osmius and his three passengers. Before the dragon’s dark form lifted off again, Krey approached him. “You risked yourself to save Sarza. Thank you.”

  He thought he saw Osmius nod.

  “Let’s gather in the girls’ room and talk,” Nora said.

  Krey nearly pulled Nora off to the side to ask what the hell she’d been thinking back at the palace. If she’d stuck with the plan, he and Kebi would’ve done their best to protect Sarza as she escaped. While the guards tried to figure out where the bullets and arrows had come from, Nora’s team could’ve taken more care in their escape, timing it to the patrols of perimeter guards. But by announcing her presence atop the dome, Nora had put her team in danger. And now her father knew she was nearby, working actively to take him down.

  The only good thing about her actions was that Krey had discovered he could still wrap Nora in his magic without turning into a lecherous creep. He could fly with her again . . . as long as their lives were in danger and he was furious enough with her to distract him from her body. Great.

  With effort, Krey shoved down his bubbling anger. Everyone would want to know what Sarza had seen and heard. He’d have to wait until later to give Nora a piece of his mind.

  The group walked to an old barn the farmers had converted into a bunkhouse for their grandkids to sleep in when they visited. Nora, Kebi, Zeisha, Sarza, and Joli were all staying there, while Krey used the single guest room inside the house.

  Nora opened the door. Zeisha and Joli were playing a board game by the light of the fireplace. They stood and rushed to the door.

  Zeisha pulled Kebi into a tight hug, stifling a sob against the trog’s chest. After a couple of minutes, she turned to the others, wiping her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re all okay.”

  “Barely,” Krey muttered.

  “Let’s gather by the fire,” Nora said. Krey took off his jacket and sat between her and Kebi. When everyone was settled, Nora turned to Sarza. “Did you get any information about Ovrun?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  Krey’s heart dropped. He, too, had held out hope that Sarza’s gift was leading her to the chapel to rescue Ovrun.

  Nora’s face twisted with disappointment, but she swallowed and asked Sarza, “What happened inside the dome?”

  The group sat, spellbound, as Sarza told her story. Krey held his breath when she described the orange light that had enveloped the king’s arms and head as he touched the stone. “I think he’s getting his power from it,” she said.

  “I’ve grown up hearing that anyone who touches the stone dies,” Krey said. “I guess the royals and Rimorians have been keeping some secrets.”

  “There’s more,” Sarza said. She went on to describe a vision she’d had that led her to a book hidden in the emissary’s office. With a hint of drama, Sarza pulled a small, leather-bound book from her pocket.

  “What is it?” Nora breathed.

  “I haven’t had a chance to look.” Sarza shoved it toward Nora. “It’s from your palace, you take it.”

  Krey had a ridiculous urge to snatch it from Sarza’s hand. Instead, as Nora took the book, he leaned closer to her. She moved it to her other hand, farther from his gaze. He leaned even closer, and she pulled it farther away, smirking.

  “I’ll let you read it with me,” she said, “but grab a lantern. This fire isn’t giving me much light.”

  Krey lit a lantern and set it between them. True to her word, Nora held the book so he could see it too. When she opened it, the scent of old dust wafted out. The ink on the fir
st page was faded but legible.

  “What does it say?” Sarza asked.

  “It’s titled The Stone. It’s handwritten, and there’s no author listed.” Nora carefully flipped through the pages. “It’s pretty short. Anyone up for story time?” Grinning at their enthusiastic responses, she started reading.

  The Stone was a journal written by a nameless Rimorian emissary who’d acted as the stone’s keeper in the decades after The Day. The first three entries contained short observations about the artifact, such as how sunlight interacted with its broken orange faces.

  Nora began reading the fourth entry.

  “We know the stone kills those who touch it. Today, we learned of an exception to the rule. A pilgrim came to visit the stone. He shoved me out of the way, then removed the glass case and grabbed a piece of the stone.

  “I screamed, but the man did not fall. Orange light covered his hands. He dropped the stone and ran from the chapel.

  “I assume he will die.”

  Nora turned the page. “This is dated the following day,” she said, before continuing her reading.

  “The pilgrim returned today. He confided in me that he was trying to take his own life yesterday. When the stone brought light into his hands, he feared he’d made God angry.

  “He told me he has a gift allowing him to manipulate the ground.”

  Nora looked up. “This was before scholars had settled on which magical terms to use. He was probably a soil lyster.” She resumed her reading.

  “After touching the stone, he ate a bit of dirt to distract himself from his depression. He then experienced greater power than ever before, creating deep furrows across a large piece of uninhabited land.

  “Perhaps all who are gifted with magic are immune to the stone’s power to kill. For them, the stone may be a friend, not a foe. However, I am terrified to think what would happen if this knowledge became widespread. Those with magic could use their gifts to destroy entire communities. Wars might be fought over the stone.”

  “Can I see that?” Krey asked. Nora handed him the book, and he turned to the previous entry. After skimming it, he handed the book back. “Why do you think the light only covered his hands? Sarza said it traveled all the way to Ulmin’s head.”

  “A dirt eater only has magic in their hands,” Zeisha replied. “Ulmin has magic in his hands and his head. The stone makes both his talents stronger.”

  “That explains how he made the dome,” Krey said. “And why his mind talent is so powerful. Do you think he let Faylie touch the stone too?” His eyes turned to Nora. Faylie, the mind-controlled militia’s Overseer, had been her best friend. Nora had killed her to free the militia.

  A swallow rippled through Nora’s throat, but her voice was steady. “I can’t imagine my father telling anyone about this. It would be too easy for someone to use their enhanced power against him.”

  “We could keep discussing this,” Sarza snapped, “or you could read the secret book I risked my life to get.”

  A smile tugged at Nora’s mouth. She returned to the book, again reading it aloud. The emissary wrote that she’d invited the man to stay at the small chapel for a time to explore his strengthened skills.

  The stone’s magical enhancement only lasted a few days after touching it. However, the pilgrim could easily top off his power by touching the stone again. In time, he’d discovered he could carry a small piece of the stone with him, drawing power from it for several weeks. Eventually, it lost its effectiveness until he returned it to the other stone pieces.

  “Maybe when your father visits the militia, he brings a piece of the stone for Faylie to touch,” Kebi said.

  “I still can’t imagine him sharing such a secret,” Nora said.

  “Keep reading,” Sarza insisted.

  Nora read page after page of entries that told them nothing new. Then she struck gold.

  “The pilgrim has now been here three years. Last month, he became a member of the Rimorian clergy. He is a good man who has found his purpose.

  “He has kept his promise to protect the secret he discovered. We have only shared it with two members of the Abrios family.

  “Yesterday, a young woman who lives in this area visited the chapel. Her toe caught on the threshold as she exited. The pilgrim grabbed her wrist to keep her from falling.

  “She looked up and asked what he’d done to her. She said she felt a jolt of power in her hands. He assured her he’d done nothing.

  “I heard the exchange, and I remembered that the young woman has the same magical gift as the pilgrim. He and I took her on a walk. She ate fuel and discovered that her magic was enhanced as well, though not to the same extent as the pilgrim’s.

  “We did not reveal the source of her new power, and she agreed not to display her strengthened magic to anyone. She promised to report back to us on how long her gift remained altered.”

  Nora turned the page. “The next entry is dated over a month later.”

  “For several weeks after being touched, the young woman continued to experience increased power every time she ate dirt, though the pilgrim didn’t touch her again. However, if he went days without touching the stone, her power receded along with his. And her magical strength always returned to its normal level at night, when the pilgrim was asleep.

  “The woman’s power decreased somewhat over time, and at the six-week mark, it dropped sharply and soon fell to her normal level. If the pilgrim had touched her again, perhaps he would have renewed their shared magic. She, however, was glad to be rid of it.

  “I have nearly reached the end of this book’s pages, and I hope we have discovered all we need to know of the stone. We will protect the object itself and the terrible secrets it contains.”

  After making sure the rest of the pages were blank, Nora closed the book. “I think—no, I know—my father forced Faylie to become a brain lyster, then shared his power with her so she could control the entire militia at once. I doubt she ever knew how he’d gotten so much strength.”

  Krey nodded. “And when the two of you took your two-hundredth-anniversary tour, he must’ve brought a piece of the stone with him. That way, he could keep drawing on its power and sharing it with Faylie from a distance.”

  His mind returned to the day he’d first met Nora and her father in Tirra. He’d considered himself so superior to royalty, not realizing he and the king had the same dark secret. Nora deserves better. He wrote that phrase inside his mind, in large, block letters. It had become his mantra of late.

  Nora’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “My father can obviously control when he shares his enhanced power. Otherwise, he’d be passing it along to every stone lyster he shakes hands with.”

  “He grew up working with magical masters,” Krey said. “He’s gotta be way more skilled than the pilgrim in the book was. I doubt he’s ever had any trouble determining exactly who he wants to give power to.”

  Zeisha sat up straighter. “I just thought of something. According to the book, when power is shared, it decreases over time. That must be why Girro helped Faylie while the king was on his tour. I’m sure she got weaker while Ulmin was gone.”

  The room went silent. Girro was the brain-eating trog who’d helped Faylie control the militia for several weeks. He’d lost his mind completely in the process.

  Joli, who’d remained silent since they’d all gathered, said, “I used to wish I was a magic eater. The more I hear, the more I’m glad I’m not.”

  Zeisha nodded, then yawned. “It’s past dawn. As much as we’d all like to sleep, we’ll be expected at breakfast.” Their hosts didn’t know about their nighttime adventure.

  Krey’s stomach was ready for food, but it would have to wait. He stood with the others and tapped Nora’s arm. “Can we talk?”

  She must’ve seen something in his eyes. “Osmius has already told me all the ways I screwed up; now I get to hear it from you too?”

  He shrugged, giving her a what did you expect? look.

 
She sighed. “Let’s go outside.”

  They put on their jackets and exited into the chilly autumn air. The book had distracted Krey from the events at the dome, but as he strode to the side of the renovated barn, his anger flared back to life. As soon as they stopped, Krey spat, “We had a plan!”

  “We did.”

  “Why did you ignore it?”

  She spread her arms wide. “I don’t know!”

  “Well, there has to be a reason you announced your presence and put the rest of us in danger! And now your father knows you’re coming after him! How long do you think it’ll be before he figures out where you are?” He was yelling by the end of his tirade.

  A harsh sigh left Nora’s throat. “I honestly don’t know why I did it! I was fine with the plan, but then I saw you and Kebi running with your weapons, and—” Her mouth snapped shut, and she stared at Krey, her brows furrowed.

  He drew in a deep breath. If he didn’t get his temper in check, she wouldn’t want to tell him anything. “And what?” he asked, gentleness and frustration warring in his voice. “You saw us running, and what?”

  She was breathing quickly through her nose. When she spoke, her voice trembled a bit. “I was standing up there, thinking about Faylie, Ovrun, and Taima. My father took them all from me. And while I watched, he was about to take Sarza too.” She blinked, her eyes glistening with tears. “If I don’t stop him, he’ll keep tyrannizing our country. It’s all up to me. I guess that responsibility hit me all at once. I felt like I should be the one to act. So I did.”